


Go Bad

by prepare4trouble



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Cisco is insecure about his powers, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5405240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare4trouble/pseuds/prepare4trouble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is where they keep them.  The bad ones, the ones they can’t trust.  He had been looking for himself here.</p><p>Cisco can't shake the fear that he's going to end up in the Pipeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Bad

“Hey, Barry?” Cisco wraps his hands nervously around his beer and stares down into the golden liquid, watching the bubbles rising to the surface and bursting as they come into contact with the air.

“Yeah?”

The noise level in the bar is just high enough to drown out their conversation without causing them to need to shout. Cisco sighs and licks his lips. “Do you ever think about…” He breaks off and shakes his head. “Nah, forget it.”

Barry frowns. “Something the matter?”

Cisco shakes his head again. “No, everything’s great.” He downs the last of his drink, notices Barry’s is almost empty and gets to his feet. “Better get out of here before I have another drink. We can’t all metabolize alcohol at the speed of sound.”

Barry shrugs and downs the last swig of his drink then stands. “Maybe not, but you can do other cool stuff now, so…”

Cisco feels himself tense. He forces his muscles to relax, then pulls his face into an incredulous expression. “Not being able to get drunk isn’t cool, Barry. It’s a tragedy.”

Barry laughs, and Cisco relaxes properly. He claps his friend on the back and turns to leave. Barry follows him out.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Cisco wakes in a cold sweat, the sheets of his bed clinging to clammy skin, wrapping around his body uncomfortably. He is shaking; his muscles so tense from a fight or flight instinct aborted by the door separating him from the rest of the world. Still half lost in the dream he gasps for air, feeling the plea for forgiveness die on his lips. 

He drags a still trembling hand across his brow before reaching out and switching on the light by his bed. He stares around his bedroom, taking in every detail of the place, trying to convince himself that it is this, and not the dream that is reality. He shudders one final time at the memory of the cell door sliding closed in front of him, cutting him off from the outside world.

It is just a dream, he is sure of that. Well, ninety percent sure? Eighty five? But for those few stray percentage points he just can’t shake the feeling that it is a premonition; a vibe masquerading as a nightmare. He has never suffered from claustrophobia, but suddenly he can’t fight the urge to go outside.

He peels off the clammy sheets and pulls on a pair of pants and yesterdays t-shirt before stumbling out of his bedroom, out of his apartment, outside into the cold night air of Central City. It isn’t until his toes start to hurt from the cold that he realizes he is barefoot. All around him, the sights, sounds and scents of the city night ground him. He takes a deep breath of night air and savors every polluted particle.

Freedom is precious, he never realized how precious until now.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

He doesn’t go down there any more. Not if he can help it. Those times when it is unavoidable, he sings songs in his head, he thinks about other things, other places, other times. Hell, he’ll happily revisit that one time the kids at school gave him an honest to God toilet swirly if it stops him from thinking about where he is. It was there that he gained his ability, and he can’t shake the feeling that it is there where he will one day be contained.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Metahuman.

Cisco drums his fingers rapidly on the desk in front of him. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Of course it doesn’t. It’s true that most of the metas they have encountered have been less than wonderful people, but there have been exceptions to the rule. The big one, of course, is Barry, who is currently sitting not too far away, staring at a computer monitor while Caitlin talks to him. Cisco has long since given up on trying to follow the conversation. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to understand if he put his mind to it of course, but he just can’t do that. Not today. Not with his thoughts following the dangerous paths that they are.

He can’t quite put his finger on what it is that bothers him so much. Is it the Dr Wells connection; the idea that Eobard Thawne had wanted this to happen? That is definitely a factor, and the thought of it chills him to the bone. If this is something that he had wanted, it can’t possibly be a good thing. But that isn’t the whole issue.

He idly taps a few keys on his computer. He barely even remembers what he was supposed to be doing. He can’t concentrate on anything. He wonders how long that’s going to be a thing. Sooner or later he’s going to have to snap out of it or he’s going to put the whole team at risk.

Beneath his feet, empty cells await an occupant.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

The place is so quiet. The gentle hum of electric lights provide a backdrop to the sound of his feet on the hard floor. Cisco keeps his vision trained on the tips of his toes for the time being. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, exhales through pursed lips and raises his gaze.

He reaches out with one hand, fingers trembling just slightly, and presses his palm against the wall. He waits, tense with anticipation. Nothing. He takes few steps further into the space and repeats the whole procedure, this time grasping the door of an empty cell. Nothing. He steps inside.

“What’cha doing?”

He jumps. His entire body twitches violently in surprise at the unexpected interruption.

Barry is standing not too far away, near to where he first touched to wall, staring at him with curiosity mingled with obvious concern.

Cisco shrugs. “Nothing. Well, obviously not _nothing_ nothing. I’m just checking the…” he tails off “Doors?”

Barry takes a few steps closer. He stands just outside the perimeter of the cell, Cisco just inside. The door is open, but the whole scenario is just a little too close to his recurring dream for comfort. “They look fine to me,” Barry says.

Cisco smiles awkwardly, then sidesteps past Barry, placing himself firmly on the outside of the cell. “Yeah, they’re good. Right, better get back to…” he stops again, realizing he has no idea what he had been pretending to do before he had come down here. 

“Cisco,” Barry says. He turns to face him but doesn’t make any move to leave. “What’s going on with you? You haven’t seemed like yourself for days. Weeks even.”

He bites his lip and glances nervously around the room. “I was trying to get a vibe,” he admits.

“Of what?”

Cisco sighs. This is where they keep them. The bad ones, the ones they can’t trust. He had been looking for himself here. “Barry, do you ever wonder what would happen if you went bad?”

Barry looks surprised at first, them puzzled. “No,” he said. “People don’t just ‘go bad,’ Cisco. I’m not…” he frowns. “Why?”

“Just, humor me, okay?”

Barry’s frown deepens slightly. “You’d stop me,” he says. “You’ve been planning for it from the start. The cold gun, that’s what it was for originally.”

“Yeah.” Cisco leans heavily against the wall and allows his body to slide down until he is sitting on the cold, hard floor. “What about me?” he asks, so quietly that Barry has to lean in to hear him clearly. “What if I go bad? What if I find some way to use this thing I can do for something… What if I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am?”

Barry doesn’t answer at first. He allows himself to sink down to the ground next to Cisco.

“I’m pretty sure that if you were going to go bad, you’d have done it already. You might not have had an actual power before, but that brain of yours is a lethal weapon on it’s own.”

For a fraction of a second, the corners of Cisco’s lips twitch into an approximation of a smile. It fades almost as soon as it starts. “I bumped into this guy the other day,” he said. “Literally bumped into him, the guy ran right into me while staring at his phone, spilled his latte right down my Bazinga shirt then the asshole started yelling at me for not looking where I was going.”

Barry doesn’t answer, he nods and waits for the rest of the story.

“I got a vibe off him when he hit me,” Cisco continues. “Nothing special, just him at home with his wife eating a meal. Pasta I think, whatever. The point is, I got his address. Then I spent the whole trip back home to get changed wondering if there was any way I could get back at him. That’s how it starts, isn’t it? I didn’t do anything, but what if I’d gone there. Done something. Hacked his computer, broke a window, whatever? That’s how it starts, using my powers for evil, and before you know it…”

He stops when he sees the grin on Barry’s face.

“Something tells me you’re not taking this a seriously as me.”

“Sorry. It’s just, evil? As revenge fantasies go, that’s pretty tame. And I’m betting you didn’t do it?”

Cisco shakes his head. “No way, I love that shirt, I had to get it cleaned before it stained!”

“When I first got my speed, I used it to seduce a girl,” Barry says. “I was on a date, I didn’t really want to be there because I was so hung up on Iris at the time, but I excused myself to go to the bathroom, then ran to her house, checked out her favorite books and music, then went back to make uncannily relevant conversation with her. It worked too. She invited me back to her place. I didn’t go, but I could have.”

Cisco smiles. A genuine one this time. “Wow, we would both make terrible supervillains.”

“Yep,” Barry gets to his feet then offers a hand to Cisco. “So how about you stop worrying about becoming the next big bad and start helping us deal with the problem we do have?”

Cisco accepts the hand and gets to his feet.

“Anyway, if you ever do go bad, there’s no way we’re going to lock you down here,” Barry tells him. “You helped make the place, I’m pretty sure you know how to get out. We’ll find someplace nice and secure for you.”

“Great.” Cisco rolls his eyes. “I feel better already.”

And somehow, he realizes, he really does.


End file.
